Giving You What I Lost
by That Awkward Girl
Summary: How does it feel to know that you're not the only one hurting? To know that it's never too late to save somebody else from going through what you did? Lauren Winter lost her son to the Origami Killer, along with her happiness. After managing to escape from an abusive ex-client, she fled to an old hideout of her's, a motel. Follow Lauren as she journeys in Madison Paige's shoes.
1. First Encounter

**Hi there!**

**There's a surprise Author's Note at the end of the chapter for you all :) Until then, enjoy!**

**Also, I do not own Heavy Rain, I'm just an obsessive fan...**

* * *

She hated it here. I mean, what is there to like about a depressing motel? The cars that drove by, the smell of gasoline, and that obnoxious sign out front with the flickering lights that spelled out, _Cross Road Motel._ She knew it all too well, especially because it used to be her only place to go when her husband would have too much to drink.

The only real reason why she returned to the shit hole was to hide away from Troy, an ex-client. He would return to her apartment daily, demanding sex or he'd beat her. She despised him, always acting as if he_ owned_ her. She needed to take a break... just for a few days, _at least._

She trudged out of her car. "Raining. Again." She sighed to herself. Besides the fact that it didn't get along with her hair, it's been raining nonstop. It also brought back rotten memories. She ran into the little, "sign-in-center", to shield herself from the pounding water, looking up only to see the disappointingly familiar room that she despised once she got inside.

"The atmosphere here is one of concern as there is still no news about 10-year old Shaun Mars who disappeared yesterday. A recent report indicates that the police are now treating this as another kidnapping by the Origami Killer." The 3:00 news buzzed from the old TV.

She stood there in shock, which soon turned into complete anger. "That diseased bastard! When the cops catch you, you better have a good sob story, asshole!" Ranting to herself, she stopped briefly to catch the rest of the story. "If this information is confirmed, he may still be alive as the previous victims were, all killed 3-5 days after their abduction."

"Johnny." She started to mumble, right before she continued to rage. "Three to five days, my ass!" She cursed to herself, slamming the reception bell forcefully. She didn't care for the rest of the story. It was the same thing every time, the police, along with the parents, fail to safe the captured child, and four days later, there's a report up on the TV, informing the area about the child's "recent" death. It all sickened her, especially because she's made the same mistake as a parent._  
_

She watched the green door hidden behind the rounded desk creak open almost immediately, followed by that redneck counter-guy. He gave her an awkward stare-down before almost recognizing her. "Laura, sweetheart. Longtime since you've been here, doll. What can I do for ya?"

"It's... Lauren." She spoke under her breath. She could smell his tobacco breath from inches away. "And, I'd like a room."

"For you, anything." He flashed her a creepy smile and slapped a large pad down next to her from over the counter. "Fill in the registration." The man continued chewing on... whatever he had in his mouth.

She would always make sure her jacket was buttoned up to her neck before she came in, because this was his opportunity to stare at whatever he could when she wasn't looking. Especially when she was bending downward.

He gave her jotted down information a quick scan before he read it aloud. "Lauren Winter, 35, _single_. How long will you be staying with us today, Miss Winter?"

"I- I don't know." She really wasn't. She just wanted to get away from it all. Sleeping with sleazy guys is something worth taking a break from, no matter how much she gets out of it. He looked into her eyes as she thought to herself, digging underneath the table for her new room keys.

"Room 201. Last floor, stairs on the right in the courtyard." He spat. She grabbed the keys from his tight grip, not wasting another moment to thank him. She's dealt with enough psychopath-men and sure didn't have time for this one.

"Enjoy your stay." He grinned, looking forward to getting a good glimpse of her backside as she walked away. "Pervert." She rolled her eyes as she scampered out of that _shack_ of his.

She took her usual route, up the endless flight of stairs, onto the top balcony. She was out of breath by time she reached the highest point, but still managed to notice the man slumped up against the railing. Squinting, she tried to get a closer look, slowly approaching him while doing so.

She hoped he wasn't drunk, because he was slouching over the oddly designed bars, looking as if he was about to be sick. That's when she stopped to notice the huge gash across his forehead, a _fresh_ wound. She trembled mildly, rushing to come up from behind him.

"Sir...?" She let out nervously, reacting to his violent shaking. The next thing she knew, he flipped his whole body around to face her, which caused him to nearly fall to his knees. "Oh my god!" She wrapped her arms around his elbow that wasn't still on the railing. Luckily, she had a good grip on him, allowing her to balance his arm against the cold metal once again.

"Are... are you okay? What... how... uhm." It was none of her business what happened to him, all that mattered is that she had an ambulance show up right away. "I'm going to call 911, okay? Stay-"

"No ambulance." He nodded in disagreement, panting from exhaustion. He kept his left hand against his chest while his head swung around in every direction. Why didn't he want medical attention? He was badly injured from the way he appeared; bleeding head, and some type of abdominal pain.

"But... you're bleeding. And-"

"Please... just help me... to my room? It's number 207." Without a second thought, she placed an arm around his back, holding his side while the other was secure in his hand. He moaned and whimpered as she searched for his bedroom, trying to prevent him from weighing her down. She felt like no matter where she put her hands, she was causing him pain, which left her torn.

"Okay. Number 207." She gently unwrapped his arm from her and held him by his elbow instead. "Do you have the key?" It took a moment for him to place it in her palm, and once she held it in her fingers, she unlocked the door, and turned the knob.

He limped into the gloomy suite, which looked untouched. She placed him onto his bed as he tried to keep his balance. She examined the stranger for a moment. Messy brunette hair, pale blue eyes, and an unshaven face. Besides the cut on his forehead, he was a descent looking man.

"You're in bad shape." She warned, helping him remove his jacket. "You really need medical attention."

"Must have one... maybe two broken ribs. It's not fatal, but it's sore as hell." He groaned.

"You have a deep gash along your head, and it's still bleeding." She felt bad for him, the pain must of felt pretty bad. Without realizing it, she started to inspect his forehead, accidentally poking at the cut a few times. "I'm really sorry." She seemed to flinch whenever he complained.

"I'll be back with bandages and medicine, just try not to move too much." She left him on the bed as she rushed into the bathroom to raid the cupboards for supplies, making sure to grab disinfectant and painkillers.

"Okay." She called from the open bathroom door. "I'm going to clean your wounds first." He sighed a little. I think the current pain was enough for him to handle.

She took a cotton ball and poured some of the fluid onto it, swiping it across his cut very lightly. She could see that he was grinding his teeth a little, so she decided to stop.

"Ain't that bad, was it?" She simpered. He just nodded and shrugged. "Well, at least it won't get infected..."

"Thanks." He muttered.

Once the top was screwed back onto the disinfectant bottle, she replaced it with the bottle of Paracomol painkillers on his night stand.

"And now, take this." She dropped a single pill in his hand, considering the directions recommended only one every 24 hours. "It should do you some g-"

"What is it?" He asked before she finished speaking.

"It's a painkiller. It'll help reduce the pain from your injuries." She sat on top of the table next to him, keeping the bottle in her grasp.

He gave her a look before snatching it from her. "It says that you're only supposed to take one every 24 hours on the box. Exceeding the dose is a little risky." She felt silly still trying to persuade him not to, since he was already downing a handful at a time.

"I can't afford to wait." He hung his head low.

"You shouldn't move around for a few days. You're gonna feel pretty damn sore." She sat on the other side of the bed.

"...I'm gonna take a shower." He tried to get up, but plopped back down onto the cushions because of his ribs. Poor guy.

"Let me lend you a hand." She led him towards the bathroom door, already open from before. "I'll wait here until you get out. If you need anything, anything at all, I'll be out here." She rocked back and forth on her feet, swinging her hands by her side. Let's hope he was still able to undress himself.

She watched as he pushed the door so it would close, but ended up leaving it open just a crack. Okay, maybe _a little_ more than _just_ a crack. She couldn't help but peek in, wondering if he wanted it shut all the way, but she already noticed that he was taking his shirt off, so she just kept her mouth shut. Besides, this would help her patrol him better if he happened to get hurt.

"We could talk... just so I know if you pass out again." She leaned against the wall, trying not to look into the bathroom too much. She didn't want him to think that she was constantly staring at his naked body.

"What's your name?" He called back.

"Lauren." She wasn't sure if she should give out her last name, too. I don't think he cared much, anyway.

"Are you staying at the hotel?" _Good question..._

"Well, actually, I live in an apartment building. It's only up the street from here."

"Any reason _why_ you're staying?" _Another_ good question. "Uhm, well-"

_I'm a prostitute that is being abused by a client, so I came here. _Yeah right! Lying was not a favor of her's, but she had no other choice.

"The building is pretty trashy, and I don't really like the people who live next door to me. I just needed a break. A vacation. I used to come here a lot in the past, so I decided to return for a bit, and like I said, it ain't too far from my home. I'm surprised I even got a room! Anyway, I'm kind of looking for a house, and-" she laughed at herself. "Why am I telling you all of this? I don't think you even care much anymore." She tended to do that a lot.

"Heh, well, I'm... I'm just passing through." He told. "What else do you do, Lauren, apart from fixing up strangers?"

"Uh- I, uhm." What could she say now? "I ain't really occupied right now. I'm searching for work at the moment, but it could be stressful." He had no idea. "And you?"

"I... I'm an architect." And with that, the water had stopped running and the sound the rustling clothing was heard behind the door. Within minutes, he appeared in the bedroom again, and his cut wasn't bleeding anymore.

"Thanks for staying. I feel a lot better now." He leaned his elbow against the doorway, giving her a smirk.

"Good." She looked at him awkwardly for another moment. "Uhm, I guess I'll be on my way, then. Take care." She made her way towards the door, stopping before realizing that she was missing _something_.

"By the way, you never told me your name."

"Ethan."

"Take care, Ethan." She made sure the close the door behind her.

* * *

******CONTAINS SPOILERS******

**A/N: Hi guys! So this is officially my first chapter to my first Heavy Rain fanfic. If you check out my other stories, you will see that I haven't really written anything similar to Heavy Rain, which was pretty exciting, yet nerve wracking at the same time. One reason being that a lot of the fan fictions already written for Heavy Rain are beyond amazing, including a great variety of vocabulary and realistic attitudes written for the characters. I feel like I used a lot of the same words several times, and might not make the characters seem like... you know, themselves! I just hoped to pull that off with Lauren because she isn't a big character with tons of dialogue (****I tried my best to add her little "slang" in there! :P)****, and she's in a totally different situation (Madison's). **

**Speaking of Lauren in Madison's shoes, the reason I put Lauren in Madison's spot is because I feel like it can be interesting and provide different outcomes for the characters. Honestly, I feel that Lauren can help & support Ethan more, since she knows what he's going through. Also, this is kind of my way of saying that I think Ethan and Lauren should've met AT LEAST ONCE in the game. They don't even have to talk, but just make some sort of eye contact! Don't get me wrong, I think Ethan & Madison are cute together, but I just felt like Madison didn't understand a lot about Ethan & his situation, especially ****SPOILERS**** in the Tears in the Rain ending, when his second son just passed and she's all like, "We could have sex and make a prettier child!". Nice going, Maddie...**

**Anyway, before_ this_ turns into it's own little novel, I also wanted Lauren to kind of get some spotlight for a change. I mean, she is a pretty interesting character, and I feel like it would make more sense if the creators of the game made her into a playable character. I mean, it would cover up ****SPOILERS**** some of Scott's crimes, like ****SPOILERS**** when he kills Manfred, etc.**

**Anyway, I shall leave now. Hope you enjoyed this chapter & see you in the next one :D**

**P.S. I'm sorry if I overuse the words, "she, he, her, him, etc. etc." throughout the whole story. I feel like it's a little more mysterious ****instead of constantly saying names, but if it starts to get annoying, let me know :)**


	2. The Nurse

9:00 PM, too early to sleep yet too late to do anything else. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring up at the TV as it flashed in front of her. The screen was awfully fuzzy, and the sound quality was as good as a radio's from the 1940's. She complained to herself, throwing her head back.

She automatically turned towards the window across the room from her. The sky was dark, cloudy, and the rain has gotten heavier compared to before, but hell, she needed some fresh air. The motel's heat was just about the only satisfying thing about it, turning a room into a sauna within 25 minutes. Besides, it was also a great opportunity to have a smoke.

She crept out of her suite, walking slowly along the balcony as the door clicked behind her. She took a nice, long minute to let the cool air hit her face and enter her body before placing a cigarette between her bony fingers, watching the tip wither with small flames as she ran her thumb across the lighter. She pressed her lips around it, feeling the smoke travel through her, tickling her throat along the way. She didn't particularly _enjoy_ smoking. I mean, who did? She hated the addiction, but with all the stress in her life, quitting was not an option.

She then held her free hand out as it dangled over the railing, and within less than a second, she started feeling heavy drops of rain slam onto her palm. She smiled a little, not knowing exactly why. I mean, she hated the rain for many _obvious_ reasons, but it's just that it felt sort of... refreshing. Anyway, she turned to look behind her, unaware that Ethan's room was directly across from her. It was weird, because his door was _open_. At that moment, she started to feel worried.

_I knew I should have checked on him one last time!_ She panicked to herself, letting the burning cigarette fall from her grasp and onto the dampened cement below her. She made the decision to step into the room for a brief moment, just to assure that he was okay. But he _wasn't._

She stood there, stiff as a board. There laid Ethan, passed out on the beige carpet. He looked even _worse_ than before, blood stains covering his knee caps, forearms, and stomach. What could he _possibly_ have done within 8 hours?

She closed his door behind her, rushing to kneel down beside him. She didn't notice anything else that was different about him, besides his new injuries. She couldn't help but brush her fingers against his face before struggling to lift him onto the bed.

Once he was properly lying down, she started to sweep his hair to the side of his forehead, noticing his old cut. "Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me?" No answer.

She breathed slowly, calming herself down. He obviously wasn't dead, because he was still breathing and making sound. Her motherly instincts started to kick in while she reached for his forehead. He started to blink and moan.

"You're burning up." She mumbled to him, all he did was close his eyes again. She started to observe his body again, reminding herself that most of his fresh cuts were bleeding from underneath his clothes.

She started by rolling his shirt up, which caused him to open his eyes again. "We have to get your clothes off to treat your injuries." He wasn't going to enjoy it, which he showed by whimpering whenever she touched his bare skin, but she didn't want anything to get infected. She sat him up and pulled the bloody shirt over his head. He cried out, so she tried to sooth him by laying him down once again.

To her surprise, he wasn't in the _worst_ shape. His arms were deeply cut into and raw wounds peaked out from the rips in his pants. He also had a few unnoticeable burn-marks along his chest. He continued to grunt in pain, and her curiosity grew, but she had to push her questions aside and treat him.

"Your arms are cut up, and so are your knees." She slid off of the side of his bed and into the bathroom, once again hunting through the medicine cabinet, which he hasn't touched since. This time, she took everything she could find, just because she _knew_ that he needed it _all_. She didn't bother to take her time, she just secured the variety of medications into her arms until she dumped them onto his night stand. Once everything was in place, she sat next to his half-naked body.

"I'll try to do what I can." Again, she placed her hand on his forehead, and then on his chest.

Delicately, she dabbed his arms with the disinfectant right before she wrapped them with a thick gauze, repeating the procedure on his legs. She wasn't sure if it was necessary, but coated his minor burns with a small amount of ointment anyway. Once he was "all patched up", she fed him an anti-fever pill and the next thing she knew, he was asleep again. No matter what, she knew that she had to stay. It was risky to leave before he woke up. Who knows what he can get himself into again?

Three hours. Three hours of watching him toss and turn violently. She would pace back and forth, and do whatever else she could to keep her eyes open. Three hours is what it took for him to finally wake up to find her starring him down with tired eyes and wrinkled clothing. He almost seemed frightened to see her once again, yet, who blamed him?

"Are you feeling alright?" She smiled weakly at him. He darted up from the bed and turned to sit on the edge, holding his rib cage. "I've been better. Was I out for long?"

"'Bout three hours. It's almost one in the morning." She yawned.

They exchanged looks for a moment before he spoke up. "Why the 'guardian angel' act? You don't even know me."

"Well, I wasn't just going to leave you lying on the floor in a condition like that! That would be foolish of me. Plus, I was a mother myself. I know how to do things, especially heal wounds, which you have been getting a lot of." She slightly cocked her head sideways. "Why's that?"

"Pardon?" He coughed a little, reaching for his shirt.

"How did you manage to slit your wrists and knees open like that?" He inspected his wrapped limbs as she addressed them, tugging the shirt back over his head. "Was it an accident? On purpose?" She was worried about him, and she wanted to know his answers, but all she got was silence and an upset look on his face. He got up to walk over to the opposite corner of the room.

"You can always talk to me if you have _any_ kind of problem." She stood up from the chair, following him as he layered himself with his jacket and stood at his desk. She honestly just noticed it.

"Listen, I'm truly grateful for your help; but for your own sake, I think it's better if you don't ask any questions." He confronted her gently.

"It ain't like... it ain't..." Her trail of words faded off. Ethan became confused, noticing she was starring at something... something behind him. It was a box, a shoe box. It was an ecru-brown color and the sticker on it was torn off at the edges.

The worst part, though? The cardboard lid was falling off of the top of the box enough to expose the 5 colorful origami figures that laid inside; a bear, a butterfly, a lizard, a shark, and a rat, all neatly folded except for the bear and butterfly. It.. it couldn't be. _The Origami Killer_.

She remembered doing shit loads of research on the Origami Killer once she recovered from losing Johnny. She remembered everything, how the children are murdered, how much time it takes, when it's done, who is targeted,_ especially_ what the parents have to go through to save their children. It was all brutal and terrifying, yet it still hasn't been found out why it's all done.

He examined her eye movements for another moment before swiping his head back. "God dammit." He let out under his breath, struggling to straighten out the cover of the shoe box.

"You're.. you're Ethan Mars..." She blurted out. "You're the father of 10-year-old Shaun Mars, the newest victim of the Origami Killer... aren't you?" She trembled, her eyes getting glossy from uncontrollable tears.

He swallowed heavily, avoiding eye contact with her. "Please, Lauren. _Leave_."

"But, Ethan, I can hel-"

"No one can help me!" She backed off suddenly from the tone of his voice. After noticing he startled her, he calmed down a bit. "You've already done a lot... Lauren."

"Ethan, you don't und-"

"Just _leave_." He pointed a finger towards the bedroom door, not caring about what she had to say next. He didn't care that she knows what he's going through, or that she _lost_ her son to the Origami Killer. He just didn't want to hear it.

He refused to make eye contact with her as the moment continued. Sorrow and anger built up inside of her, though the only thing that escaped her body was a single tear.

She walked out of the room without looking back again.

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**A/N: ****I know that the story may seem kind of useless so far, considering Lauren's dialogue & actions seem too similar to Madison's, but in the next chapter, I'll do my best to make it change with what Lauren would do instead of what Madison would. Does that make sense? No?! Augh, you get the point...  
On another note, I'm super extremely sorry if I'm making Lauren way too mushy. Lauren is one of those characters who doesn't do certain things one way and one way only. For example, she could either act really sweet towards someone or act like a bitch. She could also either talk politely to someone or talk like a bitch, but that's what's interesting about her. She's a fun character to experiment with, so hopefully my experiments don't blow up in my face.  
Also, sorry if the last part of this chapter kind of fell apart. I'm so professional...  
In conclusion, thanks for reading the second chapter of my story! Oh.. and I love you :D  
P.S. I'm sorry if it takes me a while to update the story & it's chapters. I like to make sure my chapters are good enough to publish before I _actually do_ publish them, so bare with me! No matter how long it may take me to update, I did NOT forget about the fanfic.**

_~Preview of Chapter 3: Fugitive~  
_(Real chapter may change)

A row of three, similar windows caught her eye, allowing the slightest amount of light to hit the top room. The floor was tiled, ashes topped off with dead bugs and mouse droppings piled along the wall. Her eyes traveled slowly, cautiously, yet her feet took another, quicker path.

_Clink!_

She hopped back, her foot being prickled by the uneven blades of broken glass. It laid beside a deformed porcelain statue of a lizard, it's metallic green reflected the sun's rays. There were identical models laying on the ground, some of them broken to pieces, while others still in one.

When she lifted her head back up again, she noticed an open door at the end of the hall with a lizard painted on it. Before jumping to conclusions, she took a deep breath, soon enough to find herself standing in the doorway.


	3. Fugitive

_Sleep_, something she didn't even come _close_ to getting last night. Throughout her time in bed, bad memories haunted her thoughts. She was ashamed of them. She was especially ashamed of_ herself._

Earlier that morning, she found herself in _all_ of previous day's clothes with half her body off the bed. She must have dozed off for a good 15 minutes, because she couldn't seem to completely wake herself up, considering that quarter of an hour was the _only_ time she slept all morning.

Currently, it was 7:39 AM, and once again, she was up against the balcony railing a few doors down from her own room. Her eyes got heavier to the sound of the endless rain, the cold liquid splashing against her pale skin.

After a minute of being hunched up against the metal bars with her head dangling over the drenched atmosphere, she forced herself back on her feet. She looked over to see the somber room that injected her with that strange, _familiar_ feeling. It almost seemed as if it hid behind every corner she turned. _Room 207._

No sign of any light came from the suite. It wasn't hard to notice, since the door was left open again. Without another thought, she pushed it open with her hand, exposing the room. No one to be seen, no sounds to be made, nothing really unusual this time. The only thing that seemed a little out of place was the shoe box full of the origami figures. Either that or she just couldn't keep her eyes off of it.

She stepped inside of the cave-like room, inspecting it cautiously. At the desk in the corner, she squinted at the dust-coated cardboard box, the lid plopped down beside it. Beside it laid fern-green paper that appeared to be unraveled. She reached out for it and gently felt it in her grasp, noticing small words printed on the crumpled sheet.

_"ARE YOU PREPARED TO MAKE A SACRIFICE TO SAVE YOUR SON? 9711 MARBLE STREET"_

* * *

She didn't know what speed she was driving at, though she always seemed to be going too slow. It was all a waste of time, anyway. She probably wouldn't even be able to do anything to help Ethan once she arrived.

And there it was, in a blink of an eye, 9711 Marble Street. Honestly, it didn't look like anything but an apartment building, along with a few similar ones next to it. It just looked like some casual neighborhood there in Philadelphia, groups of cars scattered out front, and handfuls of people walking along the streets.

She parked lopsided with a tire about to touch the curb, but still slammed the door behind her without making any adjustments to the position. As she made her way towards the filthy building, she noticed the rows of cars lined up against the sidewalk, most containing uncanny amounts of men in identical uniforms. It... it was the police.

She kept walking, faster and faster, feeling as if a spot light was on her. She could feel the burning glares coming from each car as she swiftly moved past each one. Why were they even here? What did they want?

Her heartbeat sped up after every question flashed into her mind, right before they dropped into her stomach. Suddenly, a thought that made her cringe appeared in her head. _They couldn't be! No! That's crazy! Why would they want anything to do with Ethan?_

In front of her stood the large doors to the apartment, rust and white graffiti uncovering from its original blue paint. With relief, she puffed out the air stored in her lungs before giving the town around her a final inspection. She occasionally pulled one door open and slithered inside.

She didn't even care to react to the poor decorating, but instead, let out another relaxed breath when she saw Ethan inside. He was making his way towards a ratty brown couch in the corner of the room. Then she saw that his hands were dripping with an unusual amount of blood.

"Ethan!" He fell to the couch, facing the other way as she approached him. "Dear _lord_!" She gasped, nearly falling backward. His finger... it was... _gone._

"Plea-please, d-don't touch it-t." He croaked, obviously in a lot of pain. She was too shocked to make any immediate movements, yet she still wanted to comfort him.

She stopped herself before she reached out to him. This wasn't the time to replay the "guardian angel". This time, she had to actually warn him about what was going on outside. Unless she was completely paranoid, she knew that the cops were most likely looking for _him_.

"Oh my god, uh..." She shuddered, kneeling down beside him, watching him rock back and forth while concealing his wounded hand behind his right arm. She was still scandalized and the muscles in her face tensed, but she still forced herself to speak up. "There are tons of cops outside surrounding this place, and I have a feeling they are here for _you_. We have to leave, but we ain't got a lot of time." And she was right.

Without a lot of thought, she sprinted to the staircase in the right corner, which was surprisingly difficult to find due to the stacks of dusty boxes leaning against it.

"No, you can't get out that way." He spoke incoherently with pain.

"I know, but there should at least be somewhere to hide." She called from the steps, making her way up. Hiding was a terrible idea. Cops search _everywhere_, but from the looks of it, they had no other choice. She had to figure this out quickly, and wisely.

A row of three similar windows were the first to catch her eye, allowing the slightest amount of light to hit the top room. The floor was tiled, ashes topped off with dead bugs and mouse droppings piled along the wall. Her eyes traveled slowly, cautiously, yet her feet took another, quicker path.

_Clink!_

She hopped back, her foot being prickled by the uneven blades of broken glass. It laid beside a deformed porcelain statue of a lizard, it's metallic green reflected the hidden sun's rays. There were identical models laying on the ground, some of them broken to pieces, while others still in one.

When she lifted her head back up again, she noticed an open door at the end of the hall with a lizard painted on it. Before jumping to conclusions, she took a deep breath, soon enough to find herself standing in the doorway.

Her chest felt hollow as she brought her hands to her face, her eyes widening in horror. _Blood. _It was splattered on the little table in the middle of the room, coming from the butcher's knife beside an open bottle of disinfectant, and scattered along the wooden floor. _Fresh_ blood.

She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, she couldn't even _breath_. She was distracted by the ringing in her ears, until she was startled by a hard bang that came from the bottom floor. Forcing herself out of the trance, she flung herself towards the stairs at the opposite side of the hallway. _What was that sound? Was Ethan okay?_ With her heart pounding through her chest, she opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a faint squeal.

Her view was foggy, but she still saw it all happen. Two cops huddled over to the couch, and a couple of men in suits followed their footsteps. One of them pushed through the policemen in front, making a couple of comments before snapping the handcuffs around Ethan's wrist.

She saw the pain in his face as they took him out of the building. She imagined all the distrustful looks he would give her the moment he saw her again, if he ever happened to. She wanted to push them all away from him, or even yell at them to stop, just to keep him safe and finally prove herself useful, but she just buried her face into her hands as she leaned against a railing, completely unseen by anyone. She knew if she was caught helping him, she would be in just as much trouble.

She was now beyond embarrassed and ashamed, and thought of herself only as a selfish cry-baby.

She was a now monster. She was a now criminal. She was now a _fugitive_.

* * *

**A/N: Before writing this chapter, I was going to let Lauren & Ethan escape successfully by getting onto the subway and such, but then I realized how useless this chapter would be if I wrote that in, so I decided that I need to change the story up a little. In addition, the next chapter will also be pretty different from the original, and it will also be SUPER JUICY :) Okay, that sounded sexual...  
Also, I am aware that even if Ethan is arrested, he still has that scene with Madison where she brings him groceries & they talk about his blackouts, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, I didn't write that scene in because in my opinion, it would take away from my next chapter. I also excluded it because... well, in all honesty, I don't really like it. Hehe...  
So, I hope you all like the story so far, and sorry for this short chapter. Hopefully I'll see you all in the next one :D  
P.S. Thank you all SO SO SO much for the favorites, follows, and reviews. It makes me so happy to know that some people are _actually_ interested in this shit pile of a story, and it's just a lot of fun to read new reviews. Speaking of those things, if you have your own opinion on the story, d****on't be afraid to leave me a review, because they help me improve upon the story so much!  
****Also, it's just a great thing alone to know that the Heavy Rain fandom is still completely active :D  
So yeah... oh and your face is nice, BYE!**


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